Blind Before Dawn
by Cherry-San
Summary: Crossover with Harry Potter. When music can't heal his wounds, Shuuichi finds himself turning to something he left behind years ago: magic.
1. Prologue

... Writer's block really sucks.

Anway, I thought I'd post something so show everyone that I am alive. This is my first shot at a Gravitation story so I'm sorry if everything is _too_ out of whack. Constructive criticism is complete welcome. This is actually a few months old and I haven't been able to write anything long and continuous for almost a year now… Oh well, hopefully I'll come out of this mini-slump this summer.

Random idea that stuck in my head; read at your own risk. I have no idea where I would go with this but I need to do something to clear my head.

**_Warnings_**: OOC-ness, Shounen-ai (_duh_), and all around crap.

* * *

Shuuichi slumped himself against the wall, his lead resting against the plain white wall as he tried to hold back the salty tears that threatened to spill form his amethyst eyes. He wouldn't cry... he couldn't let himself cry. No, not this time. Not this time. 

Shuuichi cried about everything, giving him the regular titled of a crybaby (something that never fazed him). But for Shuuichi, crying was basically an emotional outlet for him; it showed that everything was fine, that nothing wrong had happened. When the pink haired singer cried/wailed, it was simply part of the daily routine.

But when Shuuichi couldn't (or wouldn't) cry... that was a _big_ red flag right there.

_'Why... Damnit, why? ... How... How could you...?'_

Shuuichi opened his eyes slowly and looked around his brightly colored room. Shuuichi actually rarely slept here, much preferring to sleep in Yuki's bed but today... today Shuuichi had a feeling that Yuki wouldn't want him around.

Shuuichi mentally bitterly snorted at the thought_, 'Yeah, a feeling all right. A very strong feeling that has to do with Seguchi sleeping with my lov-,'_ Shuuichi cut himself off, _'...**ex** -lover.'_

Shuuichi closed his eyes again, forcing his mind to remember exactly what had happened. He had only been away for a week or so for a concert in Kyoto, but it was still far too long for Shuuichi to be away from his novelist lover (as Yuki knew due to the fact that Shuuichi called him almost every day after practice). The concert had just been the other night and been a complete success.

Shuuichi stopped. He could almost smile as he remember the bright lights, the music pounding in his eyes as he opened his mouth to sing the familiar lyrics, and, best of all, the screaming fans with their eyes trained on them with adoration and slight envy. He could almost smile…almost.

But then, it was over. The quick-moving beat stopped and he opened his eyes to flash a quick smile at the audience while their screams still hung in the air. The heavy crowds moving closer in a futile attempt to grab something onstage. Hiro and Suguru were smiling behind him, waving at the crowd as the stage darkened and they quickly hurried off.

They weren't supposed to arrive back in Tokyo until two days later as K-san had planned for them to rest a day or two before heading back. However, Shuuichi managed to convince ("convince" being whining so loud about missing Yuki until everyone agreed just to shut him up) the rest of the group to head back a day early.

Suguru hadn't cared much but vaguely mentioned something about working on some new arrangements for an upcoming single. He most likely more than 'vaguely mention' it but Shuuichi hadn't be too bust bouncing off the walls at this point. Hiro agreed, knowing that Shuuichi was excited and saying that he was sure Ayaka wouldn't mind if he came back a day early. K-san had done the usual —point a possibly loaded gun to Shuuichi head— but the pink haired boy was not deterred by the threat. The reason was most likelyfound by the fact thathe was clinging to said manager's shoulders at the time wearing a pair of bunny ears to appeared from goodness-knows-where.

Therefore, they all drove back to town in the bus, in which, halfway there the band had ended up locking Shuuichi in one of the closets, bound and gagged. They had arrived later than they had hoped due to traffic but it wasn't long before they said their quick 'goodnight's before agreeing —Read: threatening— to meet back at the studio on Monday.

Shuuichi had walked back into the apartment quietly, assuming that Yuki had been asleep. After stifling an upcoming giggle at imagining Yuki's face when he jumped on him to wake him up, the pink-haired singer had (somehow) silently made his way over to Yuki's bedroom. And then…

Shuuichi had walked right in on them...and… neither seemed to notice. The kissing couple didn't notice as Shuuichi gave a strangled cry or as he simply turned around and left, the door shutting softly. No one. Then again; did Yuki ever notice him?

Shuuichi wouldn't lie to himself; he loved Yuki more than anything but seeing the blond novelist with Seguchi-san... The singer sighed again, shutting his usually violet orbs again. He was more hurt than angry. Actually he wasn't angry at all. He loved Yuki too much to be angry, and he really just wanted Yuki to be happy and if Seguchi-san made him happy then... then... Shuuichi would step aside. Permanently.

_'Maybe its time to leave for good. Perhaps it's time to... time to go back where I belong.'_

Shuuichi's eyes snapped opened, steadying himself as he made his decision; by the time Yuki would awaken the next morning, Shindou Shuuichi would have disappeared from Japan. By the time Yuki woke up, Shindou Shuuichi would be nothing more than a memory.

* * *

Eiri Yuki groaned as he sat up, glaring at the offending alarm clock that woke him up form his blissful sleep. He ran a hand through his ruffled blond locks as he looked at the sleeping figure next to him. He groaned inwardly as he saw the mop of blond hair that was half hidden under the covers. 

Yuki didn't know what provoked him to sleep with Seguchi... again. But, when the blond showed up the night before things got... out of hand.

_'Well that's a pretty fuckin' big understatement.'_

Yuki sighed as he got out of the warm bed, slipping a soft white robe over his nude shoulders before walking to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. Shuuichi wasn't suppose to be back until the next day so Yuki wasn't worried at being caught in bed with his brother-in-law.

However, Yuki wasn't _completely _heartless and he knew if Shuuichi found the two, he'd completely break. Yes, Yuki did care about the pink-haired singer, and loved him to an extent but...

Yuki sighed as he stopped the thought. If he had to truly choose between Tohma and Shuuichi, whom would he choose?

_'Shuuichi.' _

Yuki blinked as his mind made the automatic decision on its own; would he really choose to stay with the pinked haired singer?

_'Yes. Yes, I would.' _

Yuki shook his head and ran a hand through his messy blond hair as he ran the thought through his mind again. He'd talk to Tohma today and hopefully he could end this, once and for all. Hopefully.

* * *

Despite what people though, Shuuchi wasn't an idiot. ... Well, not _completely_ anyway. Academically, he was smart enough to pass classes without straining himself too much (had he wanted), but every once in awhile, he'd do something that was just so... _dumb_ that it made him look overly stupid. Everyone thought they knew Shindou Shuuichi but... 

Shindou Shuuichi doesn't exist.

Akino Shuuichi was another story altogether though.

Shindou Shuuchi could barely speak Japanese correctly. Akino Shuuichi was fluent in Japanese, Chinese and English.

Shindou Shuuchi's dream was to be a J-pop star. Akino Shuuichi's dream was to be a mediwizard.

Shindou Shuuichi was twenty years old. Akino Shuuichi was twenty-four years old.

Shindou Shuuichi had been at the bottom of the class at the local high school in Tokyo. Akino Shuuchi had been in the top 10 student at Imperial School of Magical Arts near Beijing, China.

Shindou Shuuichi was an ordinary singer. Akino Shuuichi was... Akino Shuuichi was a wizard.

Shindou Shuuichi doesn't exist... not anymore.

* * *

… 

…

Everyone's OOC... Go away.

_**May 21, 2005**- Wow… People actually like this. I honestly have most of the main kinks and details thought out and with reasoning and other stuff there but I can't get it into words without it sounding odd. Someone mentioned the whole thing about Shuuichi having a sister and family and I do have reasoning for that… which you'll find out eventually if I continue. Until then, just assume this follows the anime (which, for those who don't know, his sister and family never actually show up)._

_Since people did like this, I'll try my best to continue it as soon as I can as the reviews got me a bit of a writing mood. (Mind you, most likely not good writing.) If anyone has ideas, feel free to throw them at me (along with the rotten fruits). I added a bit more to it here and there and did some more editing and proofreading. I'll try to add more as I go along so if I get another chapter out, I suggest rereading this one quickly just incase I added something important._

_Also, if this was a little too vague (I've had two people mention something like this to me), it's kind of meant to be that way. Heh… Hopefully it'll all make sense later on… (If not, I'll post the general summary and stuff so everyone doesn't come after me with pitchforks.)_


	2. History

… This is really oddly formatted for some reason. I don't know why. I apologize if people get confused. It seems to keep jumping around from the past to the present and then back to the past. O.o So… Yeah.

(Insert warnings, disclaimers, and other random rants that no one cares about.)

----------------------

Akino Shuuichi's mother was Chinese.

It probably would have surprised anyone had they known. Of course, no one would know.

Because Shindou Shuuichi's mother was Japanese.

These were simple facts. They could not be changed. They were solid. Concrete.

And somewhere along the lines, Shuuichi started loose track of the facts of now and the facts of then.

------------------------

Very few Westerners knew there was a difference between the expectations, the schooling, and _life _of the magical community in Asia. They simple assumed it was the same. But it wasn't.

Especially in Japan, the center of the world's upcoming technology. Muggle life was integrated into wizarding lifestyle. It wasn't uncommon for the wizard and witches of the region to live as a muggle. It was easy to keep their wand up their sleeve and move about within the non-magical society. Incredibly easy, especially if you took the right classes for it.

Shindou Shuuichi appeared the day Akino Shuuichi graduated from at Imperial School of Magical Arts. His wand went into storage and he bid goodbye to his friends and family for three years.

Two weeks later, Shuuichi met with the people he would know as his parents for the next three years. Three weeks later, he met a girl who was going to be his sister, a recent graduate from Japan's finest all girl's magic school.

And two months later, a pinked-haired fifteen-year-old Shindou Shuuichi ran into a boy named Nakano Hiroshi on his way to his first class.

------------------------------

It was a simple exchange, common. Three years as a muggle after graduation. Completely optional but recommended to wizards and witches who have recently graduated.

It was conventional, reasonable, the Japanese ministry though. The world was changing, technology increasing. Not knowing how to work something as simple as a cell phone or a TV would be unacceptable in technology based society, especially if one wished to blend in.

It wasn't horribly difficult either. Most wizards and witches learned basic skills that muggles would learn at grammar school: math, science, Japanese, and English. The classes started when they joined a magic school at the age of six and stopped when they reached their fourth year of higher schooling at the age fourteen to fifteen. Afterwards, classes concentrated on control and refinement of the students' magic energy as well as an extensive study of history and art within the magical world. Within a student's final year two years of his or her magical education, they would often attend specialized lessons or apprenticeships in order to gain information or experience on their chosen career path.

But every year, over half of each school's graduate would separate themselves from the magical community and spend three years graduating from a simple Japanese high school.

And one of those people was Shuuichi.

--------------------------------------

Shuuichi had been a bright student. Not studious, not the best but bright nonetheless. He excelled in classes he was interested in and passed the classes he disliked.

He was what any teacher would want as a student. He was social, agreeable, and perhaps slightly absent-minded. Assignments came on time, he paid attention in class for the most part, and his grades were above average. He was the one a perfect stranger would spill their heart out to or the shoulder and comfort a friend would need to cry on. He wasn't cocky, nor was he lacking in self-esteem. He was simply Shuuichi.

Shuuichi fell in love with medimagic in his fifth year out of his tradition seven years of higher magical training. He was accident prone, overly so. It didn't take much for the pink-haired boy to loose track of his surrounding and run into a wall or accidentally turn himself into a pineapple during a lesson.

And somehow, on these various trips to the Medical Room, he fell in love with it.

And it took him a good three hours of constant begging and borderline stalking school's foreign mediwitch all the while pleading until she agreed to train him. _If_ he showed potential.

And, sadly for Pomfrey-sensei, he did.

--------------------------------------

The three years didn't go as Shuuichi had planned. _Really_ didn't go as he planned.

It had been simple, three years, learn the basics of math and science, which were needed to become a mediwizard.

Yeah. Simple. Until he first saw Sakuma Ryuuchi two weeks before his first class.

And Shuuichi became entranced. Music had interested him before but like this. How was it possible for such a sound to be true, to be so _real_, without the use to magic?

And the first day of school, Shuuichi, rushing to his first ever music class, ran straight into someone who he'd later earn to know as his best friend.

Three months later, they formed a band that would be later known as Bad Luck. And almost three years later, on a late night when the wind sang to the trees and the lights flickered as though time itself had stopped, Yuki Eiri bent down to pick up a stray piece of paper that had fluttered carelessly in the wind.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

--------------------------------------

Shuuichi didn't stand out among the hustle of the students, each rushing about while chatting with friends as they headed out for lunch. Much to Shuuichi's chagrin, the removal of the age-reducing glamour actually resulted in little difference.

He was dressed casually; perhaps the only thing that would have seen odd among the various dark blue skirts, pants, and jackets that made up the school's uniform. A black bag was slung over his shoulder, and Shuuichi shifted his body as he felt the cotton strap beginning to slip down his arm.

He smiled as he came to a familiar building, slowly stepping onto the base of the stairs that lead upward to the entrance a few feet away. The terracotta colored paint decorated the wooden frame, enhancing the stunning blue designs that circled around the building that looked as though it had been painted only a fortnight ago when in actuality dated much further back into time. The roofs hung over the fragile designs, blocking the intricate carvings that lay beneath the layers of pain from view at a distance. The ceramic roof curled upwards at the corners where small bronze statues stood guarding over the area, their unwavering stare following foreigners as though in warning.

Shuuichi continued up the stone steps, subconsciously falling back into routine as he approached the entrance. He stopped to the side of the sliding door, knocking against the wooden doorframe to catch the attention of the only remaining occupant of the room.

A smile touched the pink haired boy's lips as his old teacher looked up from his work, raven black hair shifting at the man's change in posture. The older man's caramel eyes widened a fraction as he caught site of the lone figure that was leaning against the open door.

"Shuuichi!"

--------------------------------------

Shuuichi smiled as the two of them settled down, placing his own small porcelain cup down with onto the mahogany desk. The blue monochromatic glaze reflected the sunlight from an open window to right of the classroom, and Shuuichi's mind automatically classified the design to be most likely referenced from the late Yuan Dynasty. He traced a finger around the rim of the cup before gently running his hand over the slight impressions of the Qinghua Ci porcelain. He was no lover of history but after so many years of having the information about pounded into his head by teachers, it was almost impossible _not_ to have retained some of the knowledge.

"Having fun there?"

Shuuichi's head shot up at this old teacher's comment, an expression of embarrassment crossing his face. A light pink blush found its way across his cheekbones, and he gave off a goofy smile out of habit. He had gotten so lost in reminiscing that he had lost track of how long he had actually been staring at an innocent and rather plain teacup. "Heh, guess I got lost in my thoughts again. Sorry?"

The older man laughed, brown eyes sparkling in amusement behind the reflective glass frames that sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose.

Shuuichi blinked in confusion, lost to what his former teacher had found so amusing in his simple statement. "_Zhāng_ _lăoshī_?" he said, uncertainly evident in his voice.

Professor Zhāng was still smiling, "You never change, it seems. You act just as you did on your graduation day, Shuuichi, and that was four years ago."

This time Shuuichi laughed. "Why fix what's not broken, right?"

"Of course. However, speaking of which. It's not that I'm not happy to see you again but," Professor Zhāng said, pushing his silver framed glasses up with his right hand as he paused for a moment, "where in the hells have you been?"

Shuuichi fought back another laugh, settling for a chuckle. "Language now. You wouldn't want to corrupt my innocent mind, now would you, _Zhāng_ _lăoshī_?" Shuuichi said, the last word coming out in a singsong tone, playfully taunting his elder.

Professor Zhāng snorted and said, "Innocent mind, my ass, Shuuichi. We both know it. Besides, I'm not your teacher anymore so you can cut it out with the '_Zhāng lăoshī'_ crap."

Shuuichi pouted and before speaking, his face coming out laced with a mock whine, "Aww, you've hurt my feelings. And here I was, thinking we could continue our special bond as teacher and stupid." He sniffled, wiping away a fake tear from the corner of an eye. "How shall I ever go on?"

Professor Zhāng rolled his eyes, smacking Shuuichi across the head playfully. "Smartass."

"Would you rather me be a dumbass?" Shuuichi said cheekily with a grin.

"If it got you to shut up sometimes, yes."

The two paused in their act, the sheer familiarity of falling back in their old speech patterns catching up to them. They stared at each other, a silent statement passing between the teacher and his former student. Then, as though on queue, they similarly bent over in laughter, clutching the wooden desk as support. They each reached over, quickly bridging the distance gap between their bodies as they pulled themselves closer. One arm from each male wrapped itself loosely around the shoulders and neck of the other to bring them together in a loose hug. They were still grinning as they parted, enjoying the aftermath of their light and humorous conversation.

Moments passed between them, both basking in the afterglow of their unorthodox yet interesting pastime. Professor Zhāng was the first to bring back a serious topic.

"But seriously, Shuuichi. Where have you been? Your muggle high school education should have ended at least a year ago," he said, placing one hand on the pink-haired male's shoulder. The teacher's posture was relaxed and comfortable yet emitted a signal that clearly said, 'Answer me. Now.'

Shuuichi shifted uncomfortably in his spot, focusing on a small scratch on the edge of the otherwise smooth wood of the teacher's desk. He couldn't understand that ever after four years his teacher could still make him feel like a schoolboy caught cheating on a test. "I got lost?"

"Shuuichi," Professor Zhāng said his voice stern and commanding. "Stop trying to change the subject. I know you too well and you know that." His brown eyes bore holes into Shuuichi, knowing the exact way to make the younger man to feel guilty.

Shuuichi fidgeted, still not wishing to divulge why he had suddenly appeared back into his old life. He had managed to avoid brooding over the subject the last week and he had every intention to delay thinking about the issue for at least a few more months. Denial ain't just a river.

After a moment, Shuuichi looked up, meeting eyes with his former teacher. A smile was spread over his lips, forced, yet still present, in hopes that it would lessen the tension in the atmosphere. "It was nothing important," he said, nonchalantly, brushing the issue aside as dust with a broom. "I just got sidetracked by a few things. Muggles are quite fascinating, after all."

Professor Zhāng said nothing for a moment, as he searched Shuuichi's faced as his former student spoke these words. Shuuichi was always horrible at lying; he could never keep his face from betraying his thoughts. Nothing could be more obvious than that Shuuichi was trying to dodge the issue.

Shuuichi didn't wish to talk about it. _Really_ didn't want to. Professor Zhāng gave a half-hearted smile and nodded, accepting Shuuichi half-baked response for the time being. His hand moved from Shuuichi's should, affectionately running his hand through the younger's hair. He patted the side of Shuuichi's face one more time before he pulled his hand away.

Shuuichi smiled appreciatively at the raven-haired teacher's withdrawal from the topic.

"So," Professor Zhāng said as he leaned his weight against the edge of a student desk behind him as he dutifully switched topics, "still planning to become a mediwizard?"

--------------------------------------

1. Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368) - By this dynasty most porcelain and glazing techniques were well developed. Look anything else up. I'm not an expert at Chinese history like my parents are ad I'm not overly interested in porcelain. I'm much fonder of jade carvings and seals along with calligraphy writing when it comes to Chinese history.

2. Qinghua Ci porcelain - The basic white and blue porcelain you usually see associated with Chinese pottery. (Ex. Ming vases)

3. _Zhāng lăoshī - _Zhang is a common Chinese surname as well a measure word for when talking about paper-like objects (such as a photograph). 'Lăoshī' is the Chinese equivalent to the Japanese 'sensei' which is added after the teacher's last name like its Japanese counterpart. It may also be used as a stand-alone noun in addition to an ending to show a student-teacher relationship. All Chinese phrases (which will be kept to a minimum) are written in the Pinyin pronunciations, which is a system that consists of 37 different sounds that make up all the Chinese pronunciation needed. (Of course, memorizing the pinyin symbols themselves takes a few years alone to master.)

… That is the results of spending seven weeks in a foreign country where you can only understand every other word and was forced to take four hour lessons a day where you were the youngest by four years.

Many reviewers were curious about Yuki and such and I'll try to get that fitted in future chapters. I'm more focused on Shuuichi right now but I can try and fit in some stuff back with Yuki and Bad Luck later on.

Four sessions in total to finish this over the course of at least eight months. At least I'm writing again.

Which is either good or bad. Whatever. Gives some basics of my version of the Japanese muggle society. Confusing as heck, I'm sure. Tell me what you think of Professor Zhāng. I never use OCs. Never. This is a major first, and I suck a characterization.

Feed the authoress. She needs the energy to actually give into these spontaneous urges to write. At 3AM.

…Did I mention it's around 1:30 in the morning and I should be doing some crappy poetry anthology shit right now that's due tomorrow?


	3. Heal

Urm. Are any of my readers still out there?

————

The sun had long set behind the mountain-covered horizon, the sky reflecting a deep navy blue while the stars twinkled brightly overhead and the half-moon hovered near the mountain summits. _Stars were always brighter in magical areas_, Professor Zhāng mused as he shuffled stacks of graded papers into a semblance of order. Magical schools, more so than other areas, were known for their bright and never-ending skies: lights were sparse after curfew and magical fireflies amused themselves but flitting about in the sky, mingling with the moonlight and candles, and pollution was minimal in magical areas with wards often blocking any technology that could potentially dirty their air and water.

Professor Zhāng picked up the two discarded teacups that were spread across his desk, both still full with cold tea, small leaf fragments resting peacefully undisturbed at the bottom of each porcelain ware. Despite talking for hours with the pink-haired wizard, he had learned very little of where the boy had been for the past year. Shuuichi had been uncooperative as ever, dodging his meaningful question with distractions, jokes, and the occasional plea. He couldn't bring himself to push the issue further with Shuuichi, guilt hitting him each time he saw the forlorn expression that would cross his ex-student's face every time he tried to bring up the topic. They ended up spending the last hours of the day discussing Shuuichi's school years before Professor Zhāng had given notably tired Shuuichi the password to his quarters and shooing him away with an the order to rest. The time difference from China to Japan was miniscule and rather negligible, but Professor Zhāng suspected the boy was exhausted for different reasons. The boy was probably curled up on his couch now, buried between downy cushions and cotton blankets.

The boy had changed over the years but not enough to where Professor Zhāng couldn't recognize him. He was sadder now, noticeably so, but more passionate at the same time. He was a contradiction, a boy who could somehow be so ebullient and melancholy at the same time, bordering on being bi-polar. He still held that same curiosity in him though, as well as that inherent optimism for the better that would likely never disappear.

Professor Zhāng could clearly remember Shuuichi as a student, the typical bright-eyed yet innocent youth whose curiosity often overshot his common sense. Zhāng was a Traditional Charms professor, who taught—as the class titled implied—traditional charms, ones that had fallen out of style in the West but still lived on in Eastern teachings. The charms required no wands as a medium for their magic but concentration, discipline, and often old-fashion chanting, physical artifacts, and the occasional hand signs for execution. This genre of spell casting was harder for learn and perform than the Western wand waving but the resulting spells were more resilient, stronger, and more efficient.

Professor Zhāng smiled as he wordlessly tapped the edge of each teacup, the liquid vanishing and leaving the resulting cups empty and clean. He overturned the two cups, stacking them over one another before setting them down on the small black tea tray that was nestled atop a low bookshelf. Shuuichi had found his class absolutely fascinating, and it became one of the few classes that Shuuichi loved but did not excel in.

Shuuichi had passed the class, though with a lower grade than the boy had wished, which was a testament to the boy's stubborn will. The pink-haired teen, while finding the idea of old fashion rituals and spell chanting enthralling, lacked the proper discipline and concentration to ever truly succeed in the subject. Traditional Charms required prolong periods of concentration, any interruption disrupting the spell and therefore forcing a complete repeat of the _entire_ spell from the beginning.

Professor Zhāng chucked lowly to himself as he recalled an incident in the boy's Sixth year. He had assigned the class into groups of five for an old warding spell. He always used five; it was the simplest and best number that balanced properly with the natural elements that required an even, yet non-strenuous, flow of magic. Three person rituals were the strongest to cover smaller tasks but required each member to cover larger areas of the spell casting. Seven people, while reducing the amount of power needed, was such an uneven number that an experienced caster must be involved to simply sooth the environment's natural magic to accept the spell. Five was the perfect number, especially for a group of amateur casters, but the spell casting itself still required the complete and continuous concentration of all five members for a grand total of twenty-three minutes.

Shuuichi's record of keeping his attention happened to have been seventeen; his group had been forced to restart eight times and never managed to successfully cast the spell before the class period had ended. Shuuichi had been disappointed (after escaping his classmates who likely would have maimed the poor boy for wasting two hours of their life), and despite Professor Zhāng's best coaching of meditation techniques, Shuuichi was simply not made to sit still.

The older man gave a tired sigh as he sat down behind his desk, already reaching to grab a piece of blank parchment. He rarely felt his age, and he looked no different than he did ten years ago: the magic in his body had slowed the aging process down significantly. Dealing with Shuuichi, whether it be the old, obscenely happy Shuuichi or the new not-quite-as-happy Shuuichi, always wore him out. He twirled a plain muggle pen in one hand, rolling his fingers against the smooth plastic surface. He had never understood Western wizards and their quills that were messy, inconvenient, and quite honestly a pain to write with. Even in China still, some of his colleagues still insisted on using old and out-dated calligraphy brushes for all their reports that were written on large scrolls; Professor Zhāng was proud of his heritage and culture but calligraphy brushes and quills seemed to make life so much harder while a simple ball-point pen invented by, _yes_, a _muggle_, would not only save time but masses of ruined parchment. _Save the rainforest_, he thought wryly.

The wizard sighed again as he thought what to write, continuing to twirl the pen mindlessly as he mentally composed the letter he knew he was obligated to write. Finally, he paused, bringing his hand down to the parchment as he slowly and meticulously penned:

_21__st__ of May, Year 199X  
__  
__Dear Madame Pomfrey:  
__  
__It is with great happiness that I inform you of the return of your wayward apprentice and hope that our previous arrangement for his continued education in the field of medi-magic may be resumed…_

——

_June 10, 199X  
__  
Professor Zhāng —_

_I received your news with great enthusiasm and gladly accept Mr. Akino's return as my apprentice. I have arranged with Headmaster Dumbledore for Mr. Akino's transportation via a portkey that is enclosed in this correspondence, and I await his arrival at the appointed time. I do wish to inform Mr. Akino, however, that despite prolonged, unexpected, and unannounced absence will not be an excuse for any lapses in his training and that he has now be duly warned._

_Regrettably, our continent's poli__tical situation was grown darker in recent years, and I wish that Mr. Akino be properly informed of the situation he will be entering upon the requested continuation of his apprenticeship education…_

——

Shuuichi's hair color was completely natural. During his days as Shindou Shuuichi, understandably, no one had believed him. Even when the school had threatened suspension if Shuuichi didn't 're-dye' his hair 'back' to black, Shuuichi always maintained that his hair was naturally pink. The school had finally been forced to relent, with no one offering evidence to the contrary and no one willing to check. Later on, the question of Shuuichi's hair color was just another point of interest in his fans, a selling point, something that wasn't true but in the end, it didn't really matter if it was.

Even among Japanese wizards and witches, pink was a rare color. Japanese wizards and witches were known for their hair colors, ranging anywhere from a neon blue to a deep forest green. It was a sign of their heritage, a genetic predisposition unique among the Asian magical community. Among the Japanese youth, many were proud to display their natural hair color, claiming hair-dye to those non-magical.

Hiro's hair had only the slightest tinge of red, a red that Shuuichi knew for a fact was dyed; he'd helped Hiro dye it himself a year after they met and every time subsequently for the last three years. Suguru's had been a deep forest green that was also highly likely dyed; Shuuichi had never been close enough to their younger band member to know for sure, but the boy's history held up far too well under scrutiny to be false. Though if he truly was related to Tohma Seguchi, Shuuichi would probably never know for sure; the ex-Little Grasper members was undoubtedly one of the most cunning and devious he had ever met.

Shuuichi was proud of his hair color, both as a wizard and as a singer. It was something that he inherited from his maternal grandmother whose hair was the same shade of bubblegum pink. His mother's hair had been a fetching shade of aqua while his father's had been a deep blue; somehow, their genes carried on to recreate pink. How exactly this occurred, Shuuichi never managed to figure out; wizarding genetics were all over the place and only vaguely followed the patterns discovered through non-magical research.

And thus, Shuuichi and his decidedly bubblegum pink hair waltzed across the grounds of Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft, a single bag slung over his shoulder and a carefully folded letters gripped in his left hand.

——

Shuuichi was excited.

He could feel a happy nervousness fluttering in his stomach as he practically skipped while following a Professor McGonagall. He was finally seeing his mentor after four years, and he couldn't help but remember the fussing medi-witch fondly. Madame Pomfrey had only been at the Imperial School for a year while she did research on Eastern medicinal herbs and techniques, and said year hadn't even been a full year; she had alternated between Floo transfers and long-distant portkeys that were sporadic yet somehow allowed her to actually complete her research. When Shuuichi had originally applied for full apprenticeship under her instruction at the end of his Seventh year hoping that she could continue her routine of constant traveling, he had been denied; her research visa had long expired and she had already returned to Hogwarts full-time. It was only after much pleading, begging, and otherwise stalking that they came to an agreement: Shuuichi would be schooled in medi-magic by the local Healer as per normally regulated training, and Madame Pomfrey would receive constant reports of his progress. If he still wished to be her apprentice at the end of the two years and then after the following three years after his muggle schooling, she would accept him as her apprentice at Hogwarts.

Shuuichi had only seen her in person twice before he had rushed off to Japan (vocal Floo correspondence notwithstanding), both times over the summer when she had managed a recreation visa from China's magical ministry. She had spent her time criticizing and correcting all of Shuuichi's mistakes, not above hovering over him during assignments and bopping him harshly across the head at careless mistakes. When he had left for Japan, he had said a quick goodbye to her, fully expecting to see her in three years.

Shuuichi wilted a little as at the thought, still following the silent Professor McGonagall through the winding halls of Hogwarts. He had stopped paying attention to their direction after the fourth turn, knowing even if he tried, he would never be able to remember the location of the medical wing. The strict female professor moved briskly through the halls, not bothering to glance back at the pink-haired wizard who kept with her pace mindlessly.

Shuuichi truly hadn't meant to stay in Japan an extra year, even after he and Hiro had formed Bad Luck. He had honestly forgotten about magic for those three years, music having completely overcome his mind and, cliché-ly, soul. He loved medi-magic but it was _singing_ that had truly wiped away any thoughts or doubts from his mind about his life and future. He remembered feeling vaguely guilty when they first created Bad Luck, knowing that after graduation, he'd be leaving Hiro as a one-man band. But as the years went by, the thought was pushed further and further into the back of his mind, disappearing in favor of lighter thoughts and plans.

The day of his graduation, when Hiro announced that he was going to stay with Bad Luck and Sakano offered them a deal, he had been elated at their future with Bad Luck. He had planned to leave three weeks after his graduation, enough time to fill out the proper paperwork and work his way through his old acquaintances to either say goodbye and/or modify their memories. It was cruel, in a way, to erase your existence from friends so callously, but it was how it was done.

But at the prospect of Bad Luck actually, _truly_, being something, all thoughts of leaving had been neglected, filed away at the back of his mind for something that wasn't important _now_ because they had deadlines to fill and songs to write. When he met Eiri Yuki and fallen inexplicably head-over-heels, the thoughts flittered further away, settling in the deep recesses of his thoughts.

It was only when he arrived back 'home' three days before his planned departure did he remember what he was supposed to do. His 'parents' had collected the proper officials forms for Shindou's withdrawal, and his 'sister' had already started reviewing memory charms for the disappearance of her 'brother', Shindou Shuuichi. (Maiko had graduated the same year as Shuuichi but had been ahead by a year of her classmates. When applying for her muggle immersion schooling, she had chosen to start attending middle school, instead of the typical high school. She claimed that she enjoyed it; Shuuichi just thought she was crazy.)

Shuuichi remembered looking at the forms, his name and information all nearly filled out and just waiting for his last signatures to confirm his departure, and his wand that lied dormant at the back corner of his closet, and all that could come to his mind was Bad Luck and Yuki and he couldn't leave. He _couldn't_. He knew what he was leaving behind; he was leaving magic and Pomfrey-sensei and wanting to heal but just thinking about singing and cold gold eyes made leaving it all behind seem worthwhile.

And for a year, it had been. Bad Luck had skyrocketed in popularity, and Shuuichi had fallen into a complicated yet seemingly happy relationship with the cold romance novelist. He had met his music idol, and his not-family had been happy for him, filing the forms away and offering him a room regardless of the end of their legal contract. Maybe if he had not met Yuki, he would have left after just a few months; a band was just a band in the end, but Yuki was his boyfriend, his lover and someone who needed—albeit reluctantly—Shuuichi as just Shuuichi.

But between Yuki, Bad Luck, and Ryuuichi Sakuma, he hadn't regretted leaving magic behind for music and love. Not once.

Until he came home to find that his love hadn't really loved him and that maybe music couldn't heal him this time.

And as Shuuichi walked along the apathetic halls, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways as he followed a complete stranger to a dear friend he hadn't seen in over four years, the tears that Shuuichi couldn't shed those weeks ago threatened to spill once again before Shuuichi huffed to himself quietly, wiped his eyes for his non-existent crying and moved on, the echoing footsteps of Shindou Shuuichi disappearing bit by bit in the hollow corridors.

——

Minerva McGonagall had long given up trying to understand the workings of Albus Dumbledore. She had worked under the man for the majority of her life, since she had first become a teacher almost fifty years prior, and despite seeing the man almost every subsequent day of her life, she could only fathom what went on in his mind.

She firmly believed that Albus Dumbledore was a genius, but sometimes, _sometimes_, she truly had to wonder if the old man had completely lost it.

She surreptitiously glanced at the boy—_young man_, she corrected herself mentally, he _was_ twenty-four after all, despite that he barely looked over eighteen—who trailed after her obediently after her initial command to follow. The pink hair was outrageous, but she was well-versed enough in Eastern culture to understand that it was most likely natural and quite common. He was shorter than most of her students, no doubt credited to his heritage, and his expression was rapidly changing from excited to pensive and then every so forlorn. His head was bent downward, and his eyes trailed along the marble floor blankly, blatantly disregarding his surroundings as he followed her blindly.

Professor McGonagall resisted the urge to lecture the young man at his failure to map and note the passageway from the entrance to the Hospital Wing. The disapproving expression fell away quickly and she held back a sigh; it was not to be helped, he was still young and naturally absent-minded from what Poppy had told her about him. Not to mention, if she recalled, Asian magical schools were not housed in medieval castles as they were in Europe but often open ranges in the mountains, with open-air gardens and paths substituted for the hard stone hallways. Hogwarts was daunting when it came to hallways and staircases which were likely a far change from what the young wizard was used to, and she could only presume that he had given up trying to follow their path shortly after they had started the trek.

She gave the pink-haired boy another quick glance out of the corner of her eye and though back to what Poppy and Albus had informed her of the man. Akino Shuuichi, Japanese and Chinese descent, was expected to be at Hogwarts one year ago and failed to appear for an unknown and personal reason, and had a gift of medi-magic.

The last, and most important, piece of information was likely the only reason Albus had allowed such a young man to board at Hogwarts on the near outbreak of war against You-Know-Who. Medi-magic took a certain temperament among wizards and witches that was rare; few managed to get past the first stages and even fewer could become certified Healers.

And with the looming war ahead, they needed as many Healers as possible.

Professor McGonagall repressed a sigh as she continued walking, nearing the few turns before the Hospital Wing. This was going to be a long year.

————

I almost ended in a cliffhanger, but decided this would be a nice place to cut off. As for the HP timeline, this should take place after OotP and AU as of HBP (though some plot points may be included). I proof read it once over, but if you find any mistakes, please feel free to point them out to me.

To clear up an issue a reviewer mentioned: Akino Shuuichi is 24 years old. In Asian magical schools, at 18 students stop attending basic classes and spend the next two years dealing with specialized training. After those two years, at age 20, they have the option of posing at a 15 or 16 year old to attend three years of high school. When Akino was 20, he became Shindou, age 15, who met Yuki at age 18 (real age: 23). The story starts with Akino, real age 24, posing as Shindou, age 19 (not 20 as previously mentioned in Chapter 1). Physical differences are negligible, as magic slows down the aging process enough to where it isn't overtly noticeable. Any question I will gladly answer through a note, email, or review.

Note: Title may change in near future so if you see a story that looks exactly like this one, it probably is this one.

Feed the review whore and be loved.


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